


Wrote it Down and Put it in a Love (?) Song

by bar2d2s



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, teenage disaster Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:44:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: The art of the mixtape officially found dead in its home, age 55. Cause of death: Ben Solo.





	Wrote it Down and Put it in a Love (?) Song

**Author's Note:**

> Actual DM to a friend on Twitter: "Modern AU where Kylo picks the worst possible song to represent every mood." Three hours later, here we are.

“So here we are.”

“Mhm.”

“Our first haters' brunch since I changed schools.”

“Yes indeed.”

“You’re going to make me drag it out of you, aren’t you?”

Hux wasn’t grinding his teeth, he was simply chewing his sandwich very, very thoroughly. As dearly as he loved and missed Phasma haunting the halls of their ridiculously elite private high school,  _his_ gossip shouldn’t be taking priority. “Not until you tell me how your parents decided that combating lesbianism with an all-girls Catholic school was the way to go.” She laughed, accepting her second plate of bacon from their waitress with a wink.

“I think I’m supposed to be humbled and awed by the power of the Holy Spirit, or something. Of course, now I just have a uniform fetish and a weird fear of rulers. In more pressing news, what’s this I hear about you hooking up with that weird Solo kid three days after I left?” Hux squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ben isn’t _weird_ -”

“He has three facial piercings that the principal is too scared to make him take out, rides a scooter, and is as big as a goddamn house. And he plays the _bass_. I thought I taught you to always go for a band’s drummer, they’re better with their hands.” She made an obscene gesture, and he snorted. “Also, his mom is our Senator. He’s textbook-definition weird.”

For a moment, Hux’s mind drifted back to his first meeting with Senator Organa, who was much shorter, yet simultaneously much more intimidating than he thought she’d be. Ben’d had him pressed up against the door of his bedroom, when she’d suddenly opened the door and they’d both toppled out into the hall. Ben’s pathetic wheeze of “Mom, why do you  _never_ knock?!” had been so endearing, Hux decided then and there that he’d weather any and all bemused looks of disapproval for that stupid, stupid boy.

Phasma snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he was forcibly dragged back to the present.

“Ben isn’t weird.” He said firmly, stealing one of the untouched pieces of toast on Phasma’s plate. “He’s rich enough that he bleeds right into being eccentric. His parents hate mine, but seem to like me alright. And in the event that we break up, I will be stealing his sister and raising her as my own.” Rey was a weird little kid that was much, much too into Pokemon Go for his taste, but she was also always down to watch Netflix murder documentaries with him whenever Ben had band practice. He’d never had a little sister, and his birth mother had gotten his twin in the divorce Parent Trap style, so it wasn’t like Hux ever got to see him ever. Rey would make a fine replacement. “Though…there is one thing about him that’s sort of…off.”

There was a screeching noise as Phasma abruptly pushed her chair back from the table, sprinting around until she was able to sit directly across from him. “Okay, now that I’m looking you right in the eye…go.” Hux shook his head. He’d almost forgotten how entirely  _extra_  Phasma could be.

“Okay so, you remember that movie we saw last year? Baby Driver? The main character was able to set every moment of his life to music, and it worked completely. Well, Ben is the opposite of that.” He leaned down to drag his bag into his lap, rummaging around in it. “For our one-month anniversary, he made me a mix CD-”

“Your car doesn’t even have a CD player in it.” Phasma interjected, and he sighed.

“I know, and neither does my laptop. I had to listen to it on the desktop in the house office. More to the point, look at this track list.” He slid the CD case across to her grimly, as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

From Phasma’s reaction, nuclear war might have been preferable.

“This…Armie, this is terrible.” She began to read off track names. “Cannibal, Kesha. Ice Cream, New Young Pony Club. The Sound, The 1975. I Could Never Take- are you kidding me? Are you sure he wasn’t breaking up with you?”

Ben had been so excited when he gave him the CD, even after Hux had explained that he wouldn’t be able to listen to it until he got home. The paper with the track listing had been in a card, which he was told not to open until he’d put the CD in. The card itself had been disgustingly sweet, and had made Hux’s heart beat faster at the time (and any time he reread it, who was he trying to kid). But the CD. Dear lord.

“No, he just genuinely has no idea how to arrange music in a fluid, coherent way. Which, if you had any idea how much he loves music, is actually amazing. Because on their own, these are all wonderful songs! Look, he even threw a Wombats song on there, remember when we went and saw them back in freshman year?” Phasma scanned until she found it, then scowled.

“Hux, it’s Let’s Dance to Joy Division.”

“But it’s by a band I really like.” He bargained, then paused as a shadow fell over their table.

“Baby!” Phasma’s empty chair was now occupied by all six and a half feet of Ben Solo, who was grinning from ear to ridiculously oversized ear. It had been less than 12 hours since they’d last seen each other, yet Hux’s heart still panged with joy. Disgusting. “I thought I heard you! Rey aced her spelling test Friday, so as per the contract, she gets a deadly amount of pancakes today.” Glancing up, Hux caught a glimpse of Rey kneeling backwards on her chair, waving at him hard enough that the poor thing looked on the verge of collapse. Her face was covered in syrup, and he found himself thinking of the struggle her brother would have later trying to get her to take a bath.

He was in much, much too deep with this family. But he also had bigger problems, as Ben had spotted the CD. “Oh cool, you’re showing off my present? I knew it was a better idea than a hoodie.” He beamed, smacking a slightly sticky kiss to Hux’s cheek. Clearly, Ben had also been into the pancakes. “If you want, I can give you my 8Tracks screen name. I make a lot of playlists and upload ‘em there, but they’re mostly for running and stuff. You’re the first _person_  I’ve ever made one for!” Ben sounded so proud. And then-

“Is that why it sucks?” Hux very nearly dropped the fork he’d been holding. “Because man, this really sucks.” Ben went rigid beside him.

“Phasma.” Hux hissed, not wanting to look over at Ben’s face. “What the fuck?!”

“You said it yourself, none of these songs go together.” She replied, casually finishing off her eggs as she ruined his life.

“But they’re all songs I like, by bands I like.” He backpedaled frantically, finally looking at Ben.

Who was blinking back tears.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

“It’s a wonderful present, Ben. Phasma’s just being a bitch because none of her hookups have ever given her anything as thoughtful.” Ben’s arm, which had still been around the back of his chair at that point, suddenly fell away. Damn it, what had he said _now_?

“Hook up?” _Shit_. “Stupid me, and here I thought I was your boyfriend.”

Before Hux could say another word to try and rectify the situation, Ben very calmly reached over, grabbed the CD, and snapped it in half. Case and all.

“Now it’ll never bother you again.” He mumbled, then stood up and walked out of the restaurant. When he got outside, Hux saw him take out his phone and text a short message. Then he began to jog away. Less than a minute later, and Han Solo was there at their table, cuffing him around the ears.

“Explain this to me, kid.” He snarled, shoving his (flip phone??? How.) beneath Hux’s nose.

_I think we just broke up. See you at home._

“No.” Hux said, more to the air than to the text or anyone around him. “No, no. No no no. We didn’t, I don’t. Damn it, Phasma!”

For her part, Phasma at least had the sense to look ashamed.

“I was just teasing.” She mumbled. “I mean, this is haters' brunch. Usually when you bring shit, you want me to make fun of it.”

“Screencaps from stupid Twitter drama and thoughtful gifts from my  _boyfriend_ do not get the same treatment!” He yelled, throwing some money down on the table and running out. He had his car, he could probably beat Ben home.

***

He beat Ben home. In fact, he lurked outside of Ben’s house for close to four hours before it became very clear that just because Ben had texted his father 'see you at home’, it didn’t mean he was heading there immediately. Hux then went to check Ben’s gym, the running paths he frequented, his band’s practice space, even his uncle’s house. No luck.

So then, upon returning home and stealing his cat away from her sunny spot, he began to blow up his phone.

_Ben where are you_

_Ben I'm worried_

_I can see you leaving me on read, Ben Solo. We're not broken up. You better have a backup copy of that CD because I want it back._

_Ben stop leaving me on read_

_I love you, you asshole. Stop ignoring me._

It wasn’t until the sounds of his father’s car in the driveway reached his ears that Hux realized he’d been trying to reach Ben for over six hours with no luck. His heart sank. Maybe they _were_  over.

“Armitage! Tell your awful friend to get the hell off of my lawn!” Brendol yelled from downstairs, and Hux was up and running to his bedroom window, shoving it open.

“Armie!”

15 feet below him, Kylo is clutching a hilariously tiny bright pink Beats by Dre pill speaker in one hand, his phone in the other. His scooter is nowhere in sight, which means he probably ran the ten miles from his house to Hux’s. Raising both arms above his head, he drags his thumb around on his phone until it hits the play button. Hux holds his breath.

Feels, by Calvin Harris. Blared at ear-splitting levels on his front lawn at ten on a school night. Ben grinned, and suddenly, his phone chimed.

_Love you too_

Hux closed the window, locking it for good measure, his breath escaping him in hysterical laughter. That was where he’d placed his affections. That was his man.

He was  _so_ fucking glad.

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr as [thirstmastercrylo](thirstmastercrylo.tumblr.com)


End file.
